Softly Adapting (2)
Having already endured dozens of varied deaths, my fear of dying itself had lessened considerably.
The many kinds of pain, though, were another matter—I still hadn't grown used to them, and a faint unease lingered. But that much could be fixed simply by loading a save file before anything truly horrific happened.
"Right! So let's just think of it as a game."
Possession.
Because the situation overflowed with such crushing realism, I had been measuring the limits of what I could do by the standards of my ordinary abilities—persuading someone for help, eliminating the root of a problem first, running away. Simple actions like that.
Looking back now, those were hardly the choices a veteran who had seen dozens of endings would make.
Alright then.
What could I use in the first episode?
The raid mission was already over, so the rewards a player could claim ought to be scattered around somewhere. And since the original protagonist had died, taking useful items shouldn't cause any trouble.
The first thing that came to mind was the multi-playthrough privilege granted each episode: Growth Powder.
A special item unavailable in any shop, obtainable only by clearing events, that dramatically boosted a character's stats. Feed it a few times to some useless supporting cast member and they could end up outperforming the leads.
That would be the first step.
Power the real me could never possess. If I could just claim that ability, the branches open to me would naturally multiply.
From what I remembered, the place to obtain Growth Powder after the first episode was…
"Huh? It was the infirmary, wasn't it?"
Lucky break. Thanks to fainting at just the right moment, I wouldn't have to wander around or risk being mistaken for a thief.
"So… the second drawer…"
Following my memory, I immediately opened the desk drawer that presumably belonged to the health professor.
"Oh!"
Sure enough, inside lay a plastic bag filled with pure white powder that looked exactly like cocaine. In the game it had been a neat little triangle of white powder piled on a square of paper—pretty, almost cute. Seeing it in person, though, made me deeply reluctant to touch the stuff.
"…Do I really have to use this?"
It looked completely unappetizing. Maybe it wasn't even meant to be eaten—maybe you were supposed to snort it.
But my hesitation couldn't last. While I wasted time like this, the fighting in the plaza was only growing fiercer, and I needed to intervene as soon as possible.
"No choice."
Pushing the unease aside, I carefully opened the bag, dipped a finger into the white powder, and brought it to my tongue for a taste.
"……!!"
It was dizzying. A thrilling jolt so sharp my legs nearly gave out and my whole body swayed. It felt less like flavor and more like pure pain—like electricity racing through me.
The effect, however, was every bit as certain as the taste. The dizziness that always hit when I loaded a save file—maybe because I had just fainted and woken up—noticeably faded. I felt as refreshed as if I had just woken from a deep, perfect sleep.
"Wow…"
It was real.
As if something had possessed me, I pressed the bag to my lips and shook every last bit of powder into my mouth. It melted away with a soft saaah.
"Huu…"
The intensity wrung a moan from me; I staggered back and dropped onto the bed, certain I would collapse any second. The entire amount, clumped together, was barely the size of a finger joint. A strange regret stirred. I even stuck out my pink tongue and licked the bag clean of every remaining speck.
…Heh. No one watching, so whatever?
Ahh. I felt healthier than before—noticeably so. But there was no way to check my stats while possessed, so I would simply have to feel the difference myself. Checking once I reached the plaza would be soon enough.
"Let's go…!"
Filled with a sense of satisfaction, I flung open the tightly shut infirmary door and burst out.
—Kwaang!
The door, previously flawless, slammed into the wall and slowly tilted downward.
"…Uh."
One of the hinges had come clean off. The effect was clearly stronger than I had expected. Using the power directly was far more convincing than staring at numbers.
Confidence rising, I left the broken door behind and raced toward the plaza. Just as before, I closed in on the figure stealthily gripping a gun and about to pull the trigger. Without a second's hesitation I seized his wrist and yanked it upward.
—Taang!
The massive gunshot I had heard so many times. Because pain had always followed that sound, my body reflexively trembled—but thanks to the powder, I had subdued the culprit before any bullet could find me.
"What the hell?!"
"It's a raid!!"
Students who heard the shot instantly turned their eyes on me and the mastermind. The difference this time was that none of them looked ready to draw weapons and join the fight on the spot.
Good. A very good start.
"Please focus for a moment."
I looked over the suddenly quiet students, took the pistol from the mastermind's hand, and held it up for them to see.
They flinched, every muscle tensing as they gripped their own weapons, afraid I might do something reckless. Even if they reacted that way, they would all die anyway. Not knowing we had already died more than a dozen times made the whole display look almost laughable. Not knowing their own futures only made them pitiful.
"Just now, this person was about to shoot all of you. You heard the sound—you know that, right?"
"W-what bullshit!! Let go of me?!"
The moment I tried to lay out the truth, the mastermind thrashed and resisted. Normally it might have been a problem, but after the white powder my body didn't budge an inch. The force he put out felt about as strong as a cat kneading its paws.
…Oh, for heaven's sake. Comparing this black-hearted bastard to a cat. Ugh. Disgusting.
"I-I'm being framed!! It was all this bitch who shot!!"
Whether he realized force wouldn't free him, or whether the murderous stares of the students got to him, the struggling mastermind went limp, dangling helplessly, and let out a pitiful cry.
Aha. Since strength failed, he was trying persuasion. But appeals to emotion are always swept away by stronger emotion.
—Click
I cocked the hammer. A single bullet slid into the empty chamber with a sharp metallic sound. The students tensed again.
"Why would I frame him? Hah… you all seem like the sort of ignorant people who only ever think about politics and fighting. You were about to draw weapons on each other just now, weren't you?"
I gave them a harmless little smile and released the mastermind. He collapsed with a heavy thud, looking thoroughly flustered—clearly he hadn't expected me to let go.
"Since you don't seem to understand the situation, let me explain. Professor Lutera sacrificed herself to save the lot of you—people who know nothing but pride and brawling—and her funeral was held the very next day. That day is today."
Only then did a few students lower their heads, realizing just how insane they had been acting.
"If the professor hasn't left yet, she would be watching every last one of these unsightly scenes of yours, wouldn't she?"
This was a world where resurrection and an afterlife existed; Lutera's soul might still be lingering here. The thought made me feel strangely foul.
I raised the pistol and pressed the muzzle to my own temple. Even after firing once, the barrel remained ice-cold in the chill air.
"W-what are you doing?!"
"Put that gun down right now!!"
Flustered students twitched as if they might rush me at any second. If I hadn't done this, they would have shamelessly tried to kill one another. Why were they staring at me like I was the crazy one?
"So the situation is this: the Academy has suffered a suspicious attack, and the ringleader might still be among us."
The male leads nodded. Arrogant noble brats steeped in middle-school syndrome, not a scrap of real feeling among them. That was exactly why I hated those bastards. It wasn't because they were better-looking than me, or because they were male characters!
"Then my situation is the same."
—Charrrruk!
I spun the cylinder, dumping every remaining cartridge onto the ground, then whirled it again. Inside, a single bullet ready to fire spun wildly, hidden among the chambers.
—Click!
Without even checking where that one bullet had landed, I pressed the pistol back to my forehead and firmly gripped the trigger.
"There's probably a bullet in here. But I don't know where it is—or whether it's even real. So if I just shoot and check, I'll know for certain whether there's a bullet, right?"
"Stop! I understand what you're trying to say, but—"
—Click!
I pulled the trigger anyway. Fortunately only an empty chamber turned; no bullet fired to punch through my pretty head.
"Hah! Looks like it was empty. Too bad."
Something like endorphins flooded through me—an almost exhilarating rush. Even I knew this was completely unhinged, but well… you lot started the unhinged behavior first, didn't you?
"Ahh, but what now? There are six empty chambers, so shooting once isn't enough. If I fire five more times I should be able to confirm for sure whether there's a bullet or not. Shall we try?"
"Y-you crazy bitch!! Stop!!"
The instant I twitched my wrist and wiggled my finger as if to pull the trigger again, someone among the students blurred forward at a speed the eye couldn't follow, seized my wrist, and yanked it aside. My hand went limp; the pistol tumbled free.
—Taang!
A bullet tore through empty air.
"Haa… Did you really have to do it that way?"
The voice of the girl who had taken the pistol from me was the same voice that had desperately called for a healing mage the very first time I died.
Yes.
A voice I knew quite well.